


Almost Godsent

by SapphicLilly



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Choking, Confessional Sex, Dom! Jaskier, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Hair Pulling, Jaskier is an extreme dom, M/M, Priest AU, Priest! Jaskier, Rough Sex, Slapping, Smut, Sub! Geralt, Top! Jaskier, bi jaskier, bottom! Geralt, but it gets real kinky towards the end, handjob, mentions of self punishment, mentions of self whipping, this is a little angsty, this is centered around church so it has a lot of religious themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23719105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicLilly/pseuds/SapphicLilly
Summary: “Geralt, I could have you right here, right now. I could bring you to your knees and use you to my liking.”“Then why don’t you?” Those words hit him right in the gut.“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”“I do.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 88





	Almost Godsent

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little angsty but it gets kinky at the end I PROMISE. Hope y'all enjoy!

Jaskier's life had drastically improved, the moment he walked into the cathedral that fateful night. He confessed to a priest about something he had done; something that scared him about his self. When the words came out of him, he felt so much lighter. But it wasn’t enough to bring him peace. He needed to be _punished_ for what he did, that’s how he felt. But the priest advised him to not beat himself so much about it, even though they knew, what he had almost done.

Jaskier couldn’t fathom how he was able to stray so far. He was scared of himself and he was scared that he would harm others. The priest saw a desperate man, begging for forgiveness, from who he wasn't quite sure. _“How about, you join the church. Maybe you can find what you’re looking for through God. He forgives all of those that truly repent for what they have done.”_ Was all the priest could think of saying, and Jaskier left without saying anything back.

He went home. His mind didn't let him rest and he was forced by his own consciousness to stay awake for the rest of the night. Soon morning came and his now, red tired eyes hurt when the sunlight suddenly burst in his room. He took his phone in his hand and checked for any new messages. There was none. No one in the world that he could ever talk to about this. About what he had done, almost done.

The weight on Jaskier’s chest was getting heavier by the minute, it almost felt asphyxiating. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to release all the tension that was building up in his throat, burning him from inside out but most of all, he wanted someone to help him. The words of that priest repeated in his head. _Me, a priest, h_ e thought. The idea alone, made him chuckle a bit.

Jaskier wasn’t a man of God, never really was but perhaps now, he should reconsider. In a whim he got up and head back into the same church he went the night before. After the morning service, he approached the first priest he saw and explained to him what he was looking for. The priest upon realizing who the man was; took him to a private office in the church to discuss further details. And that was all.

For 6 years now Jaskier has become a monk, spending most of the time in church. It felt, peaceful. The people that surrounded him were mostly normal looking people, some were older, and some were younger but all so very innocent. It was like taking a break from the people he would usually hang out with. Jaskier after all that time still couldn’t believe where he was now. It was so out of character for him, but he had tried to become accustomed it.

He would still remember those days, that night specifically. It was still haunting him. Truth to be told, he had thought that he might never come to fully forgive himself even if he stayed in the church until he died. But he still didn’t want to leave the place. It made him feel hopeful when he was there. His mind was always quieter, inside the cathedral walls. He didn’t want to give up this lifestyle just yet.

Jaskier sat outside on the church’s garden. He read and watched the tree leaves gently brush against each other by the warm spring breeze. This was all he needed and all he could ever ask in this moment; silence. Comforting silence. His shoulder was tapped and he slightly jolted back to reality. “Hello Jaskier,” said the priest. Jaskier attempted to get up and formally greet his superior but he was stopped when the other man raised his hand to halt him.

They sat together on the garden’s bench and stayed silent for just a moment. “Is something wrong, Father?” Jaskier was anxious that something was up but when the other responded with a small chuckle, he understood that wasn’t the case.

“It’s alright you don’t have to be so formal with me, Jaskier. We’ve been friends for quite a long time now,” _friends_ …that’s something foreign in Jaskier’s mind. “I just wanted to have a talk with you. It’s been a while since we talked in private. 6 years to be exact,” Jaskier’s mind immediately brought back the images of that night and he closed his eyes shut, trying to pull those images away from his mind. The priest grabbed his hand and held it gently. “Don’t run from it, it will only do you worse.”

“I know, but I…I can’t.” he replied.

The priest took a long deep breath and let go of Jaskier’s hand. “Let’s go talk in one of the confessional booths. I think it’s time we settle this once and for all, don’t you think?” Jaskier’s breath was stuck in his throat, and a guilty sensation rose up to his temples making him dizzier. He found the strength to stand and followed his superior. When they reached the booth, the priest entered on one side and Jaskier stood on the other for a few seconds. When he took a deep breath and pulled himself together, he entered the booth closing the door behind him.

This particular silence, he didn’t quite like. It was deadly; it was seeping into the farthest places of his mind and made him feel sick. Jaskier placed his hands on his knees and took a long deep breath yet again. “Let yourself go Jaskier, tell me what’s troubling you.”

“Why do I have to say it again? You already know what it is.” Jaskier almost barked back.

“Refresh my memory then,” the priest calmly replied.

Jaskier gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He ruffled his hair and slouched forward. “I still, I still haven’t forgotten that night. It’s been killing me and I feel like at any moment I will slip up.”

“What did you do that night Jaskier? Remind me.” The priest persisted.

Jaskier lied back and exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I almost killed someone,” he paused. “I was having sex with a woman, and I went too far.”

“That woman, did she condone to what you were doing to her?” he asked.

“You’re asking if she gave me her consent. Yes, she had,” he paused again. “She was into the same things I was. She was so acceptant on everything I did to her. I felt so lucky to have found her on that bar. It was like…” he stopped.

“Like what…?”

“Like she was Godsent. I know that’s wrong to say,”

“Jaskier there’s no wrong thing to say. From what I believe, perhaps she was.” Jaskier’s mind settled in a state of shock.

“Why would God send her to me? Why would he send her to a situation, where she was almost killed?” the priest remained quiet for a little. Yet again that silence struck Jaskier in his stomach, making him feel sicker by the second.

“Perhaps it was his way of showing you, your lack of self control,” he responded. “Both of you seem to be on the opposite sides of the spectrum and perhaps he wanted to make you both, learn from that situation.”

“But I could have killed her.”

“You didn’t though. What was it that stopped you Jaskier?”

Jaskier was no longer in the confessional booth. He was in that hotel room, six years ago. His hands holding that belt tight around the woman’s throat. His mind lost in pleasure; his eyes were fixated on the ceiling. The woman wrapped her hands around Jaskier’s back and dug her nails into his skin. Jaskier hissed from the pain and tightened the belt on her throat. He closed his eyes and arched his back when his orgasm came close. Suddenly he felt the woman’s grip get looser and looser, before loosening up completely. Jaskier stopped immediately and looked down at her.

Her eyes were wide open, tears were streaming down her face, her body rigid and still. _She was not breathing._ Jaskier in that moment of panic called an ambulance and they told him what to do before they arrived. The woman recovered from the CPR Jaskier did, but the ambulance still came and took her to the hospital.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier eyes opened and he focused back into reality.

“Yes, sorry. I was thinking of something.”

“What stopped you Jaskier?” he couldn’t answer. He didn’t know what the answer to that question was.

After an hour of them talking, they finally exited the confessional booth. Jaskier grabbed the cross on his neck and looked up on his superior. “Jaskier, I want you to start taking confessions,” Jaskier blinked once then twice, and then his mouth fell open in protest but was stopped before he could begin. “I think, when you start listening to other people’s confessions, perhaps you might find something you’re missing. It’s not God that you’re asking forgiveness from, Jaskier. It’s your own self.”

He was frozen on the spot. Looking at the priest with utter disbelief.

* * *

It had been 5 months since Jaskier became a priest. His duty was to help his superior in the mornings and then take confessions when needed. At first it was hard for him but he had _faith_ in his superior’s opinion, perhaps he was right. Days went by hearing everyone’s thoughts, stories and deepest desires. He kept seeing that all of them were not all that perfect, they made a lot of mistakes. Just like himself.

One day after the Sunday communion, a man approached him. Long silver hair, tall, built and his demeanor almost threatening. “Could I ask you something?” the man said.

Jaskier looked up to his eyes and had to avert his gaze in order for him to focus on what he wanted to say. “Yes of course,” he said cheerfully, making as little eye contact as possible. “How can I help?”

“I was wondering, if I could get someone to talk to. A priest or something.” He said looking around him to see if anyone was watching. Jaskier stayed silent for just a second processing what he told him.

“I am a priest myself, I could take your confession if you’d like.”

“Um I, you see its…is there anyone else I could talk to?” the man said, his tone apologetic.

“The other priest is gone for the day,” _he lied._ “I’m afraid he’ll be back here tomorrow.” He continued.

Jaskier saw the man pondering that thought for a while before responding with a nod that led them both inside the confessional booth. They fell silent for a few seconds once in their respectful places. Jaskier’s leg fidgeted a little. _Why was he so persistent on talking to someone else?_ His curiosity was driving him insane. “My name is Jaskier,” He began, to break the silence. “If you want you can tell me your name, know that nothing you say here will ever escape these walls.” He waited.

The man was silent from the other side and was taking quite a while from replying.

“Geralt” he finally said. “My name is Geralt.”

“Tell me what’s troubling you, Geralt.” Jaskier’s ears were fully focused on him.

“I don’t know where to begin…”

“That’s alright, take your time. You start wherever it feels right.” Again the man fell silent.

Jaskier took a deep breath and tried to be as quiet as possible.

“I am, I am in love with someone I shouldn’t be,” _oh there it is_ , Jaskier thought. _Another forbidden love story, typical these days._ Jaskier started wondering who the girl was, that caught his attention. “It’s a man,” Jaskier’s mouth fell open. He would have never guessed a man like him was… “I shouldn’t say love, it’s not love that I feel,” he paused. “I keep having thoughts about him.” Jaskier felt a burning sensation on his stomach.

“What kind of thoughts?” he replied his eyes now fixated on the window between them. He could see Geralt’s mouth. He caught himself staring at his lips and mentally dragged himself out of the temptation.

“It’s wrong for me to think of them like that.”

“Why do you think it’s wrong?”

“Because of who he is,” he paused. “I can’t do this, I have to go.”

“Wait.” Jaskier said. “Before you go, I want to tell you one thing. God doesn’t find your attraction sinful,” he paused. “It is normal, he made you that way. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew who he was.” And with that Geralt left the confessional booth, leaving Jaskier behind confused and speechless.

Every day that passed, Jaskier hoped he would see the man again. He desperately hoped that they would talk once more. But that day never came. Jaskier had lost all hope that the man would ever return. He felt guilty that perhaps he said something wrong to him. He felt the need to confess to the priest and talk to him about the situation, but he could never bring himself to.

Jaskier’s mind was only filled with Geralt. For a moment, he remembered how easily he fell back to temptation. How, with just a glimpse of the man’s lips, those tendencies kicked in him. Jaskier was losing focus; he began having a problem at listening to others because his brain redirected his thoughts back to Geralt. For a moment, he felt his mental walls, the ones he had built to keep that side of him contained, feel all the more unstable.

* * *

Night and night again, he’d have trouble sleeping. His voice was echoing in his mind, that voice on the other side of the confessional booth. He began forming images in his mind. Images of him and Geralt, being together in more ways than one. He imagined of what it would be like to have the man in his arms, to fuck into him, to abuse his body in whatever way he saw fit. He thought of Geralt moaning under his touch, begging and pleading for his release. He pictured him wrapping his arms around his back and digging his nails on his back. Jaskier would then arch his back and hiss, losing himself in pleasure. He looked back down at the man below him and…he pictured him having a belt wrapped around his, “NO!” He rose from his bed, burying his face in his hands. _No, I am not the same,_ he thought _._ _I would never hurt him. I,_ he looked up at the image of Virgin Mary right above his bed.

“Oh Mary...Why am I this way?” tears began streaming down his face. Tears turned into sobs, and sobs turned into silent screams. It was a long night, of self hatred and self pity.

Morning went by naturally; he did all the duties he was assigned and even asked to do more. The priest was slightly taken aback but didn’t see a problem with that. He was given some of the priest’s appointments, he had scheduled for the day. Jaskier was self punishing himself for the thoughts he had the night before. He wanted to believe that he had finally changed as person, that he finally could control himself.

Another day had passed and it was about time he head home. He opened the cathedral’s door and saw Geralt standing at the entrance. Both of them were shocked and none were able to form the words for a few seconds.

“Geralt…How lovely it is to see you!” Jaskier smiled.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Geralt replied and turned around to leave. In that moment something took a hold of Jaskier, something he was too scared to distinguish.

He grabbed him by the arm and almost yelled. “Wait!” And when the man turned around to look at him. Jaskier immediately realized how hard he was grabbing him. He loosened up his grip instantly and apologized profusely. “I’m sorry. I was scared you’d never come back. Do you want to come in?” he opened the door wider and invited him in.

“I, I thought…Yeah sure,” he paused. “I am sorry about last time.” he continued, slowly walking in the cathedral.

“No worries at all, I hope I didn’t say anything wrong. Did, Did something happen?” as soon as the words came out of him, he watched Geralt tense up and avert his gaze. _Oh God no_ , he mentally screamed. _Don’t tell me he had sex with him_ , he put his hands behind his back and squeezed them tight, his face remaining the same soft expression although his insides were burning with fury. He felt _jealous_. “Would you like to come with me and talk?” Geralt grunted and so they were back in the same places. Although now, it was different. Jaskier was furious, his arms were crossed and his leg beginning to twitch yet again.

“I,” Geralt began. “I have,” Jaskier mentally prepared himself for his next words. “I have thought about that man while masturbating,” and Jaskier’s eyes shot wide open. His fury that was clouding his common sense; was now dissolving, and faded away. He sighed and focused back on him.

“What you’re going through is perfectly normal,” Jaskier was interrupted before he could continue any further.

“No! Listen to me. I want to say the things I have to say,” he paused. “You will never want to see me again after this and maybe that’s for the best.”

“Geralt…” he took a deep breath. “Alright, I will listen to you until you’re finished but I want you to know that no judgment will ever build itself inside me, I promise you.” The other side fell silent and Jaskier put his ear closer to listen.

“For the last couple of weeks, I’ve had wet dreams of that person. At first it was just wet dreams that I could then hardly remember in the mornings but then, those thoughts grew wilder, even while I was awake. I masturbated to the thought of him and the thing is,” he paused. “The more sinful the thought was, the more I liked it.” Jaskier’s breath was hitched in his throat. _Shit, shit, shit,_ he mentally cursed himself. He was getting hard.

“What were those thoughts you were having?” he said, his hand rubbing on his thigh. Jaskier tried to contain his heavy breathing by covering his mouth with his fist.

“I thought of him…touching me,”

“Where did he touch you?” he almost hissed when his hand made contact with the fabric around his crotch, the pressure was just enough to drive him insane.

“I, why do I have to say that? He was touching me, end of story.”

What Jaskier was doing, was wrong and he knew it deep down. “You want your consciousness to feel a little lighter, don’t you? To feel like someone understands you? I understand you Geralt, more than you’d ever know.” He continued rubbing himself, his sense of shame building up in lungs. “What was he doing to you?” But he couldn’t stop himself. Geralt fell silent.

“He…He was on top of me,” He paused, exhaling a long breath. “He bit my neck and grabbed me by the hair, in many versions of this fantasy he,” Jaskier unzipped his pants in the most discreet way possible as to not alarm the other.

“Go on.” He slid his hand under his underwear and had to rock his head backwards to stop himself from moaning. This was undeniably the most shameful he’s ever felt, yet here he was.

“He spanked me,” Jaskier covered his mouth with his hand and slouched forward hiding himself underneath the booth’s window, stroking himself harder and harder. “He pushed me down on all fours and made me his.” He was nearing to an orgasm.

“That man in my dreams has haunted me in ways I didn’t think was possible. I never had such an attraction towards men, but that man…” Jaskier’s stroking turned slow and his grip was tighter than before, his ears glued on Geralt but his mind was travelling on forbidden territories. “That man is you, Jaskier.” With a few strokes, he came in his hand, back arched, eyes shot wide open and his mouth falling down to the floor; a silent orgasm. “I understand that you must hate me for this, now that you know. I don’t intend on coming back here ever again.” Jaskier couldn’t believe what he was hearing, this temptation of a man; longed for him?

“Geralt I…”

“Before I go, if things were different. If I was a woman, would you…”

“I can’t,” he replied. Images of the night before flashed in his head. He was frightened of himself; he was scared that he’d lose himself all over again, like he did back then. He heard the other side’s door open and then close. Realization of the situation kicked in; when he looked down to see his exposed member. _What have I done,_ he lied back and put his hand over his forehead. He hadn’t changed at all. Not one bit.

Geralt had kept his promise. He hadn’t shown up for 3 weeks. As for Jaskier, those 3 weeks were pure _hell_. Every night when his mind was empty, their conversation would always play like a cassette tape. Geralt’s fantasies now became Jaskier’s. It felt like he was given water for the first time after centuries of drought. And every night would end with self hatred. He would punish himself. He would take one of his belts and slash it on his back. Each slash stronger than the one before.

He felt the need to be punished. Forgiveness was not enough. He cracked the belt so many times against his skin that he would only stop when his skin became numb and could no longer feel any pain. He fell down to his knees and prayed. He prayed that his thoughts would seize, he begged and pleaded as hard as he could. His body would fall to the floor from the exhaustion and then fall asleep.

The next morning, he would wake up much earlier and take a bath. The water that ran down to his legs was always red and his back would always sting the first few seconds, the water dripped down his spine. Then the scars would sting again when he would put on his shirt. He tried his best not to wince when someone touched him in the shoulder or when someone playfully patted his back. No one noticed, all but one.

“Jaskier…” said the priest and Jaskier immediately stopped cleaning the church’s entrance, the feeling of panic rising in his throat. “Could you come with me please? I will need your assistance.” Jaskier gulped.

“Couldn’t you get someone el-,” before he could finish, his arm was grabbed and was guided in one of the church’s offices. “I guess that’s a no.” he continued when he was dragged inside the office. The priest closed the door behind him and turned to his direction.

“Remove your shirt Jaskier.” Jaskier turned his gaze to meet his. There was no word that could perfectly describe Jaskier’s confusion, panic and anxiety at that moment.

“That, I will tell you, is a violation of my”

“Now, Jaskier.” He persisted. Jaskier took a moment. He looked down to the floor and closed his eyes.

“Right.” he said and turned around. He removed his white collar, his black shirt and exposed his injured back to him.

“Jesus…” Jaskier’s back was covered with scars. Some were older and they had healed but there were many newer ones. Underneath them you could hardly make out his tattoos. “What have you done, Jaskier?” the priest almost yelled and Jaskier felt shame. The worst kind of shame, the kind of shame that made him want to vomit.

“I’m...sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry.” he sobbed. The priest got a hold of him and brought him in his arms. Jaskier buried his face on his chest and he cried harder. Tears prickled in his eyes and it hurt. The priest wanted to bring his arms around his back to comfort him, but remembered his scars and stopped himself before he made contact. He placed his hand on his head and caressed him gently, whispering softly “It’s going to be okay” over and over. Jaskier cried until his heart felt empty, and the whites in his eyes turned a light shade of pink.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, slowly picking up his shirt and getting dressed. He didn’t put his white collar on.

“Jaskier stop apologizing. Tell me what happened. What made you like this?” he replied now guiding Jaskier on one of the chairs for him to sit.

“I have, I have not changed. I am the same. I kept thinking that being here, that it would stop me from being,” he stopped.

“What did you do?” the priest’s tone wasn’t harsh; it was so gentle that it made Jaskier want to cry again.

“I need to be punished! Yet you’re only offering me forgiveness! That is not what I deserve.”

“Jaskier!” he yelled. “Snap out of it, please. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“I know,” his breath shallow. “I don’t want to be kicked out. I don’t want to stop being here. I need to be here.”

“You won’t be kicked out, I promise you. Tell me Jaskier.” Jaskier sniffled and wiped away the tears that ran down his cheeks.

“There was a man, who came to confess,” the priest leaned forward closer to him. “He told me that he was having sexual fantasies about a man. At that moment I,” he paused, tears prickling again in his eyes. “I took advantage of him and told him to tell me what those fantasies were, and when he began describing,” he buried his face in his hands and continued. “I jerked myself off to him. I feel sick to my stomach," The priest remained silent. "I am so sorry,” Jaskier got up and ran to the door.

“Jaskier, wait!” But he was long gone. He ran and ran until he was far away from the church. How was he supposed to show his face there again, when he had just told him of what he had done? He decided to take a walk. Just walk and let his legs lead him wherever they will. He passed many stores and many establishments. Each neon bright sign, hurting his eyes but he kept marching forward. It was cold but he didn’t care. It was late but he didn’t care.

Up until this point, it really felt like he had his life together. That he had indeed began to change. But now it felt like he had been running away from his past. But one thing you must know about the past; is that the faster you run from it, the more it’ll catch up to you. Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes focusing back to reality, he exhaled and looked up. There it was. The place where all his nightmare began.

He looked around him and then again back to the hotel’s entrance. He stood there for a good couple of minutes, staring at it. He remembered the lights coming from the ambulance and the woman on that hospital bed. He mentally woke himself up and put his hand over his eyes, trying to stop himself from crying yet again. He sniffled and walked away.

A child’s laughter suddenly caught his attention and he looked up to see where it came from. On the opposite street he saw a couple walking, holding a kid in their arms. Jaskier’s gaze fell to the woman and his eyes widened when he recognized her face.

 _She made a family_. Jaskier’s mouth fell just slightly still staring at the couple. _She looks, happy._ Everyone is flawed and make mistakes that they regret, but it’s what they choose to do after that defines them. Jaskier leaned on the nearest wall and began laughing uncontrollably. People were giving him odd looks but he couldn’t care enough to stop himself. He looked up to the sky, it was a clear night and it was beautiful.

That night, when he returned home. He didn’t punish himself, nor did he feel he needed to do that anymore. He knew what he shouldn’t do. He knew that he shouldn’t run from himself anymore. He knew that he could change _everything_ by changing _nothing_. He went to sleep, not on the floor but this time, on the comfort of his warm bed.

* * *

Next morning Jaskier took a shower and for the first time in 3 weeks, his back didn’t sting when water ran down his back or when he put on his shirt. He had left his collar on the office, so he went to the church without it. Upon arriving he noticed the priest standing at the entrance. Jaskier braced himself and approached him. When he climbed the steps and brought himself to the priest’s level, a slap was landed on his cheek.

“I deserved that.” He said bringing his gaze back to the priest’s. He had a serious look on his face that Jaskier couldn’t determine; he was prepared for the worst. The priest held out his hand with Jaskier’s white collar on it. Jaskier’s eyes widened and the priest simply said “You’re late.” And that was it. They never talked about what happened the night before. They talked about other things though. Jaskier told him of the woman and the life she lead now, that she had made a family and that she looked happy.

“Now you see why I said you were both sent to each other. She changed her life for the better,” he paused. “Now it’s your turn Jaskier.”

“I can’t have a family, Father.”

“Who said anything about that? That’s what she chose, not you. What would be a satisfying life for you, Jaskier?” Jaskier fell silent. “You are on a good path now, Jaskier. I know you will do whatever feels right for you.” He finished.

“Thank you, Father. Um is it alright if I stay a while in here? I want to pray a little.”

“Of course Jaskier. I’ll see you around.” Jaskier heard the priest open the confessional booth and leave. He exhaled and leaned his head against the hard wooden wall. A smile crept up on his face.

“A good path, huh…” he mumbled. Was he really on a good path? What he was thinking of doing wasn’t exactly “good”. He had to teach himself self control. He needed to tame his tendencies, but to do that he’d have to practice them. However, the idea of finding a new partner scared him to no limits. He had to choose someone he wouldn’t want to hurt. Someone who, with a snap of their fingers, could make him snap out if things got…

The door on the other side creaked and Jaskier immediately tensed up. “Is anyone in there?” said a familiar voice. Jaskier realized who it was and grunted his voice deeper than ever before. _He was here._ Jaskier felt fear and panic rise up to his chest but this was an opportunity and he didn’t get a lot of those.

“I need to make a confession, if that’s okay,” he continued and Jaskier stayed silent. “I made a mistake. I made a mistake that I can’t fix,” Jaskier couldn’t say a word, he only but grunted again as deeply as he could, so that the man didn’t realize who he was. “I told someone that I wanted to be with them when I knew they could never be with me and I,” he paused. Jaskier’s eyes now shut tight, his hand clutching tightly at his chest. “I thought I could replace them, with someone else. I thought I could just forget about them, but Father I can’t,” Jaskier was left speechless, not that he was able to say anything in the first place but, he was too shocked to even breathe.

“Father, what should I do? I can’t be with them and yet…” Jaskier walked out of his booth and opened the door where his temptation resided and walked in. Geralt’s brows were furrowed and his eyes filled with panic. He attempted to get up but Jaskier pushed him backwards against the wall and covered his mouth with his hand.

“Let me speak,” he said, his hands still covering the other man’s mouth. He waited for a few seconds and when he saw no signs of struggle, he began explaining. “You came into my life and destroyed everything I had built,” he paused. “But you made me realize, that it was all just an illusion. Geralt…” he brought his hand down and let his gaze grace man’s lips. “I am not your type. You should look for someone better than me.”

“What makes you so sure, you aren’t?” Jaskier gritted his teeth. He wasn’t getting through to him.

“Geralt, I could have you right here, right now. I could bring you to your knees and use you to my liking.”

“Then why don’t you?” Those words hit him right in the gut.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I do.”

“You most certainly don’t” Geralt looked down. Jaskier moved backwards and turned to leave. “I can’t, I'm sorry,” But was stopped when Geralt grabbed him by the arm. Jaskier felt the grip on his arm. It was gentle but desperate.

“Please Jaskier. Don’t leave me.” Geralt begged, in a tone that struck Jaskier straight to his heart. Jaskier closed his eyes. He couldn’t do that to him. He _shouldn’t_ do that to him. But those pleads, he was not able to ignore them.

“Geralt, what you’re walking into,”

“I know what I’m feeling. I want you,” he paused, tightening his grip just slightly. “Please.” Geralt leaned in and graced his lips to Jaskier’s. He was still hesitant, not opening his mouth and not letting himself be lost in that moment. Geralt nibbled on his bottom lip and Jaskier’s mouth opened. He slowly gave Geralt permission to continue and he leaned in closer into the kiss. Jaskier let his common sense go completely. Any shame, any guilt, anything at all didn’t matter at that moment.

Jaskier brought their lips apart and gently held his hand over Geralt’s mouth. “Geralt, I want you to remember a word. You will use it, when you want me to stop and you will _use_ it if necessary. Am I clear?” He looked up to him with a very serious yet saddened expression. Geralt breathed into his hand, closing his eyes to contemplate.

“Okay,” he finally replied. “Dandelion. The word is going to be Dandelion.” Jaskier relaxed when he heard it. It felt comforting.

“Wonderful,” he said slightly pushing Geralt back, who then stumbled and fell back down to the booth’s chair. Jaskier with a swift movement sat on Geralt’s lap and crushed his mouth onto his. Jaskier delved his tongue into the man, as if exploring every crevice of his mouth. Geralt could hardly breathe and when their lips would break apart for a few seconds, he would whine right before they made contact again. Jaskier slid his hand behind the other’s head and gripped at his hair, holding him in place.

Geralt brought his hands around Jaskier’s hips and Jaskier immediately grabbed them. “You will not touch me, am I clear?” He whispered deep almost in a whisper and Geralt shuddered, a dark shade of pink crossing all the way to his neck. Jaskier let go of his hair and grabbed him by the neck, pushing his head back against the wall. “I wouldn’t like to repeat myself, Geralt” He said, trying to stop himself from smiling and he saw the man gulp and open his lips to speak.

“Yes.”

“Yes what.”

“Yes, Father.” Jaskier was shocked at hearing that word in this context. It sent him shivers down his spine in such a sinful, shameful kind of way that Jaskier couldn’t get enough of.

“You really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into Geralt.” He replied before he brought his lips down to his once more. Their kiss was needy, both were so desperate for one another and none were able to stop themselves. Jaskier tilted Geralt’s head and brought his lips down to his neck, gaining a whimper from him. He opened his mouth and sank his teeth in his skin, so hard that all Geralt could do was choke out a moan that slipped past his abused lips. Jaskier sucked that area until it turned purple and a lewd sound echoed in the booth, when he pulled back.

Jaskier’s eyes shot down to Geralt’s erection and Jaskier could only think of one thing. “Do you remember the word Geralt?” He said his eyes still on the man’s crotch. When the other did not respond, he cupped it almost too hard for Geralt’s liking. He protested and Jaskier put his arm over his chest pushing him backwards so hard that Geralt hit his head against the wall. “Answer me.” He continued now looking up to him, his hand still tight on his crotch.

“Yes…Yes I do. Please…” he panted.

Jaskier unzipped his pants and slid his hand underneath his underwear, making contact with the man’s dick. Geralt hissed and bit his lip, trying to contain the moan that was slowly building up in his throat. Jaskier brought himself forward and hovered his lips over to Geralt’s now open, gasping mouth. He dragged his hand slowly up and down along his shaft, gaining soft exasperated moans from him. Geralt tried to lean forward to make their lips connect but Jaskier pulled away. He wanted to look at him. He needed to see what he would look like when the pleasure would get so intense, that he’d have no control of himself.

“Jaskier…” he pleaded. He wrapped his arms around him and buried his face on his shoulder. Jaskier quickened his pace and Geralt grit his teeth, his embrace becoming tighter. “Jaskier oh fuck. Fuck please.” He whined. Jaskier pulled him by the hair and looked him in the eyes.

“Come for me Geralt.” He said his voice cunning, deep, and with a few hand motions Geralt arched his back. He gripped on Jaskier’s back and let his mouth hang open, a breathy moan escaping him at last and no intention on his part to contain it. Geralt breathed heavy, his head tilted on the side and his gaze blank, lost. Jaskier dressed Geralt and zipped his pants. To Geralt’s confusion it seemed like it was all over before he heard him say. “Get up and follow me.” Geralt was a little wobbly but was able to stand fine enough.

“What…”

“No questions. Didn’t you say you wanted me? Let’s see how far you’re able to go.” Jaskier grabbed him by the hand and guided him out the booth. He took him down to one of the sacristies. It was a private room, that was used for the preparation of a service, and it was where vestments and articles of worship were stored in it. Geralt stood there hesitant for a few seconds, until he was dragged in by Jaskier who closed the door behind him. There was no lock; anyone could walk in on them. But that made the situation all the more exciting for him.

“Take your clothes off.” He said, leaning himself on the door, his eyes fixated on the man. Geralt knew what Jaskier was proposing and he would be lying to himself if this wasn’t shamefully turning him on. He removed his leather jacket and off came his shirt with a swift movement. Geralt unzipped his pants and removed them from his legs. Leaving only but his underwear on. “Everything Geralt.” He persisted.

“I don’t want to be the only one naked.” He barked back. Jaskier’s face tensed. His brows furrowed and his body moved itself closer to him.

“Did you just talk back to me?” Geralt looked down, averting his gaze from him.

“No, No I didn’t.” Jaskier landed a slap across his face, that caused Geralt to stumble back and fall to the floor. Jaskier brought his crotch close to Geralt’s face, gripping his hair in a tight fist and tilting his head upwards.

“I think, I need to teach you some manners,” Jaskier unzipped his pants and held his dick in front of Geralt’s mouth. “Suck it.” He demanded and Geralt brought his pleading eyes to meet Jaskier’s. He let his mouth playfully hang open before Jaskier pulled him suddenly and bringing his member inside his mouth. Geralt’s tongue moved unwillingly against Jaskier’s hard on and gagged when he thrust into him to the very brim. Jaskier exhaled, his head falling backwards. His hand still tightly wrapped around Geralt’s locks, gaining whines and low hums whenever he would tug him a little harder.

“Tap on my thigh two times when you can’t take it anymore. Hum if you understand.” And Geralt hummed, sending vibrations against Jaskier’s crotch, that made him hiss and close his eyes. He was no longer thrusting his hips, for Geralt was bobbing his head and deepthroating the man even though his gag reflex kicked on the back of his throat. Even though his eyes prickled with tears and he could hardly breathe, he let his mouth be used by him. Jaskier pulled him by the hair and stopped him. “Lie on all fours,” Even in Geralt’s dazed lustful state, he obeyed almost instantly and turned around. His ass exposed to him.

Jaskier kneeled down and grabbed his cheeks, savoring how plump they felt under his touch. He slid his underwear down to his knees and placed his mouth right at his entrance. Geralt moaned when Jaskier’s tongue made contact. A hot feeling started deep from his stomach and shot down to his dick. Jaskier’s tongue dived into Geralt and he could only grip at the red carpeted floor beneath him, begging Jaskier to stop. Jaskier paid good attention that he hadn’t used the safe word yet, he wasn’t really asking him to stop.

Jaskier pulled back and landed a hard slap against his ass, making Geralt jolt forward. Jaskier grabbed him by the hips and brought him closer. “Now, now Geralt. I thought you wanted me and you’re asking me to stop?” he said in a condescending tone. “But I think that’s your way of saying “keep going”, isn’t it?” Jaskier rubbed his dick at Geralt’s ass. He brought his hand on his mouth and coated it with a generous amount of saliva before slicking up his erection.

“Jaskier, please wait” He pleaded, rising from his position in protest, but before he could finish Jaskier pushed himself slowly inside him. Geralt’s face rocked backwards, looking to the ceiling. His dick twitched when Jaskier thrust himself up to the very brim, hitting Geralt’s prostate. Jaskier stayed inside him for a moment before he leaned closer and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s chest. He pulled out and thrust back in with a sharp movement. Geralt couldn’t hold himself anymore. Breathy moans and whines slithered past his lips, only fueling Jaskier’s sinful desires.

Jaskier let go of Geralt and let him fall back down to the floor. “I’m gonna need you to do something for me Geralt,” he said removing his belt from his pants. “This is very important so I want to make sure that you understand,” he wrapped the belt around his throat and pulled him back. “When this gets too much, I want you to use the safe word and if you can’t you’ll tap me twice on my hand.” Geralt gently placed his hand on Jaskier’s.

“I won’t…have to,” he paused. “You will stop yourself before it gets too far.”

“How can you be sure goddamnit? I can’t trust myself. I,” he paused. “I can’t afford to lose you Geralt.”

“You won’t. I know you don’t want to harm me, if you did you would have already.”

Jaskier’s head rested on his shoulder and under his breath he muttered. “Please use it if you need to.” And Geralt replied with a soft “okay” before softly connecting their lips together, breathing into the kiss and breaking apart. Jaskier gripped the belt tighter and squeezed. Geralt’s mouth hanged open and eyes closed shut. Jaskier resumed pounding into him, now having the belt keep Geralt standing straight on his knees.

Geralt’s ass got tighter the longer that belt restricted his breathing. It felt excruciatingly good. The pleasure ripped through Geralt’s body, the feeling of being used; being treated like nothing more than an object. It made him shiver. It made him lose himself, forget everything around him. Who he was, where he was; everything. Jaskier pulled Geralt closer to him bringing his mouth to his ear, sucking and biting it gently. Geralt’s whines and choked moans filled the room. Jaskier kept his eyes focused on Geralt; he loosened the belt just for a few seconds letting him take a few breaths, before squeezing tightly and continue fucking into him.

“Jaskier…” Geralt choked. “Please,” He gasped. Jaskier leaned forward and Geralt slid his hands behind him to grab him by his hair. Jaskier felt himself nearing closer.

“Oh fuck Geralt,” He panted, tightening the belt around his throat. Jaskier moaned into Geralt’s ear and his pace grew gradually more intense. Geralt arched his back and separated his lips in a choked moan, letting his orgasm rip through him. Geralt whimpered from the overstimulation. In a few thrusts, Jaskier pulled out and jerked himself off, spilling his load on Geralt’s back. He let the belt fall to the ground below him and brought his arms around Geralt holding him in a tight embrace.

Both breathing heavily, staying there still. Jaskier planted kisses on Geralt’s shoulder and finally let him lie down on the carpeted floor. Jaskier got up and fetched himself a tablecloth they use for the Sunday communions. He covered Geralt and lied down next to him.

“Isn’t it dangerous…to stay in here for much longer?” Geralt sleepily questioned, turning over to wrap his arms around Jaskier’s waist and bury himself on Jaskier’s chest. His breath still sharp and heavy.

“Nobody will come in here for now. Let’s rest. We can head out in a few hours.”

“Hm.”Geralt replied in a low growl. Jaskier couldn’t help but stare at him. He looked so gentle when he was relaxed. He mentally cursed himself for doing this to him. He was still so very insecure about himself and perhaps that became apparent from the loud sigh that he exhaled. “Jaskier,” He purred. “It felt good.” He muffled, burying his face closer to his chest. Jaskier felt the weight slowly lift itself off his chest.

“Geralt I’m afraid that I’ll harm you.” Geralt pulled himself up and cupped Jaskier’s face.

“Look at me.” He softly said.

“Is that an order?” He mockingly replied.

“Jaskier,” He paused. “You didn’t hurt me. Look at me.” And Jaskier looked up to his eyes, only to see something gentle behind them. Something that made him feel safe and content. Jaskier teared up but he closed his eyes before the tears were able to form. He placed his hand on Geralt’s and leaned in to his touch. It felt warm, comforting. Geralt leaned in close and planted a kiss on his cheek, lingering for a short while before pulling away. Jaskier’s face softened immediately.

Geralt lied back down and pulled Jaskier down to bury his face on his chest once again. Jaskier began gently caressing his face, gracing his fingers across his cheek and dragging them softly on Geralt’s nose. This was his path. This was his new beginning, an opportunity for him to finally change everything for the better. The satisfying life he so longed and desired. It almost felt like, Geralt was... _Godsent_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Any comments on my writing are more than welcome, as I'm still trying to learn how to do this. Thank you for your patience.


End file.
